


God's Given Gift

by MoMoMomma



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Choking, Extremely Dubious Consent, Knotting, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Religious Fanaticism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 21:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14505639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: John knows from the very moment he sees him that they are fated to be together. God has finally seen fit to give him an Alpha, to provide him with the other half of his soul. Now he just has to convince the Deputy that it's true.





	God's Given Gift

**Author's Note:**

> The dubious consent tag is not just a filler, this is a whoa-fuck of a consent issue. It's written with the idea in mind that both parties do consent but it is still going to be a rough read for anyone who has issues with anything other than freely stated consent. With that in mind, do take care and enjoy <3 (M!Deputy's name is Rook bc they didn't decide to give him a name in game and if you're gonna call the character Rookie all the damn time, I'm gonna run with it)

John can smell them before he can even hear them. The thick scent of _Alpha_ washes over him, knees weak from something other than Joseph’s holy words. He grips at the pew he’s standing near, using it to prop himself up. He sees Jacob shift his gaze, eyes tracing the sudden weakness, and tries to shake it off.

It doesn't work. It just gets worse when the door swings open and the faithful part like the sea to reveal _him_. 

John all but chokes on his tongue, swallowing thickly, bracing himself against the gush of slick that soaks his underwear. 

It’s not just an Alpha, it’s _his_ Alpha.

He has to have him. He needs them over him, behind him, knotted in tight and relieving him of his bone deep ache. John doesn’t say a thing as they lead Joseph off, quiet as a church mouse, sweaty hands gripping at his own jacket so he doesn’t reach out.

If he begged to be taken too, would they think he was just being a good brother? Would they know?

If he _begs_ , will he be given what he wants?

“No,” Jacob snaps at him as he takes a step forwards after them, the church doors closing like a nail into his heart.

Jacob grabs for his arm, gentle even in his agitation, and John shivers at the feeling of too-sensitive skin being pinched beneath cloth. Jacob sees his wince, lets go, and lowers his voice as Faith frets in the background.

“John. There are priorities.”

“I want him,” John hears himself say hoarsely, needy and whining like a child.

“And you will have him,” Jacob promises. “But we have to do things a certain way. You know there is a path to be taken.”

A path. A path leads only to the end. There cannot be a path without a destination. Jacob and Joseph will help him, they’ll know how to reach the end he so desperately wants.

And the one he will _have_.

.O.

“Oh, you’re so hurt.” John captures the Deputy’s hands--Rook? They’d called him Rook?--pushing them gently back down at his sides. “Shhh, shhh, no. Let me help you. Let your Omega serve you.”

John had all but thrown a childish fit to be allowed to bring him to Holland Valley after he’d pulled him from the wreckage. Jacob had scowled, snapped, but Joseph had silenced him with an upheld hand.

“God gives us everything. If He has seen fit to bless John with his intended in such times, we cannot stand in the way of it.”

“I’m sorry I can’t take you to the river,” John says, wringing out a towel to dab it along the blood and sweat smeared across his Alpha’s forehead. “I _will_. I’ll take you there as soon as you’re well. We can be freed of ours sins, of laying with those we were not intended for. I am--I am so _sorry_ , Alpha. I was lustful and greedy and I let others take what should have been yours.”

He bows their foreheads together, breathing the same air for a moment, and watches in wonder as his Alpha’s chest expands with a sharp inhale.

“Yes, _yes_ ,” he drops the cloth mindlessly, uncaring of where it lands, and reaches to expose his wrist to the Rook’s twitching nose. “Take in my scent. Hold it inside you. It and I are _yours_ to have and to keep.”

It’s not as good as the scent from his throat but this isn’t the time. As much as John wants to climb astride those powerful hips, brace himself on the Rook’s broad chest, and _take_ what he has waited for so long to be delivered unto him...his Alpha is injured. His need to take care outweighs any possible need for anything else.

But he _wants_ , and it’s the want that has him rising up, careful hands on either side of broad shoulders, licking across a nasty cut that marrs one cheek. The taste explodes in his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he whines, elbows shaking under the weight of his own selfish need.

The Deputy makes a soft sound low in his throat and John leans eagerly forwards, forcing himself to stay upright when all he wants to do is sink to his knees. Offer worship with his tongue. He’d lick him clean if it would please his Alpha, forgo the river in favor of bathing him with his tongue.

Atonement either way. God would understand. 

“Wha--” His Alpha’s voice is deep, rich, shaking him down to his core, and John _has_ to sink to his knees next to the bed. “Where am I?”

“You’re with me. You’re with your Omega, just as you are meant to be.”

“Who--John?”

“Yes,” John breathes, eager hands reach out to clasp one of Rook’s between his palms. “Yes, it’s me. I’m here. Alpha, I am finally here.”

His name sounds like church bells on his Alpha’s lips. Like salvation and praise and _absolution_ in ways he’s never truly been able to find in Joseph’s sermons. His body is betraying his plan for waiting, slick dripping down his thighs, skin overly sensitive as he presses Rook’s hand to his heart.

“The Sheriff--Joseph--”

Rage splices through his elation and John scowls, hands tightening around Rook’s until the man makes a soft sound of pain, trying to pull away. He loosens his grip immediately, rubbing the hand in a small circle around his chest. He wants it against his bare skin, wants the barrier of clothing gone until all he can feel is his Alpha’s touch. 

“They’re not important right now. Maybe later, when you’re well. Right now, this is about you and me, Alpha. About finally finding each other.”

Rook drags in another deep breath, scenting the air, and John extends a shaky hand to spread it across his ribs. He feels them expand with every inhale, feels the power and the muscle in them, in the entirety of Rook’s body.

God has given him a great gift, and he will not squander it--or have it taken from him. 

“Omega,” Rook exhales on a breath, low and growling and _yes_.

“Yes,” John repeats aloud, climbing to his feet, still clinging to Rook’s hand. “Yes, Alpha, I’m here. I’m _your_ Omega. And you are mine.”

“I’m not--you need--suppressants--”

John snarls at the thought of the chemicals that hide who they are from the world. Joseph had set them free of such things, told them God made them as they were for a reason, and that reason was not to be hidden behind drugs. He can still smell the lingering sharpness in his Alpha’s scent--yet another thing the river will wash from them--but it’s not enough.

It will never be stronger than God’s will.

“You need me,” he tells Rook, taking the chance when the man presses an elbow into the bed like he’s going to rise. “No, no, no, you can’t.”

He climbs onto the bed, atop the hips he’d look at with such greed, pinning the other man down with his body. It’s not truly a containment. An Alpha like his could easily toss him off if he wanted, and the thought makes John shudder.

His Alpha is only prone because he is _allowing_ John to have this. Allowing him to sit atop him, rock the now soaked seat of his pants against a thickening bulge in Rook’s pants. He drags the hand he has to his mouth, kisses it, licks the blood smeared across a few knuckles. 

“You’re too kind to me, Alpha. Letting me astride you, like a rider and his great horse. You are kind and giving and-- _Alpha_.” John sighs, letting his head fall loose on his shoulders when the hips under him press upwards curiously. “You’re still injured. We shouldn’t--but I _want_ to. I want you thick inside me, stretching me, fitting into the place that was made for you. I want you to take me, knot me, breed me full until no one can dispute our bond.”

“John, I don’t _know_ you.” Rook says and John’s mouth twists into a frown as the man stares up at him. “How could we be made for each other when I’ve never even met you?”

“God knows.” John tells him, letting go of his hands to shove against Rook’s shoulders when the man tries to rise again, leaning his weight down. 

Rook winces. John can feel the tacky slick of blood under one hand but he continues, thighs spreading wider as another cautious upward press of his Alpha’s hips makes him sigh. 

“God created us to be whole together. You know me inside your heart, inside your _soul_. I am your other half and you are mine. You want me because how could you not? And how could I not accept such a gracious gift from Him?” John slides his hands down from his shoulders, to the broad expanse of a chest, bracing there as he rocks his weight down.

It drags a groan from them both, mingling in the air like a hymnal. John feels too hot, too contained in his clothes, and fumbling fingers fly to the buttons on his vest. 

“I should have known better,” he apologizes, tearing his vest off to toss it aside, fingers going to his shirt next. “I should have known an Alpha like you wouldn’t be too injured to mate. You are _perfect_ and made for me and _of_ course you would be able to take me in any state. I was trying to be considerate but I made a mistake and you--”

John breathes out a sigh when he drags Rook’s hands to the skin bared by the spread of his shirt, nerves calming just by his Alpha’s touch. 

“You will absolve me of my sin for arrogance. For my pride. For thinking an Alpha like you would let something like flesh wounds keep you from mounting me.”

“I shouldn’t--John, you need to leave.”

“No,” John answers simply, before cupping his Alpha’s face and finally pressing their lips together.

His Alpha tastes like _power_ , a raging inferno only banked by polite manners that John will wash from him with his touch. There’s hesitation at the start--his Alpha is so gentle, so careful with him, and he will never be able to thank God enough for blessing him with such a man--but John licks deep, every bit of ill-begotten knowledge put to use for his true mate. Blood marks his mouth, slick and bitter, and John keens, realizing he’s split one of their lips in his urgency.

It doesn't matter whose. As he reels back, all he can see is blood on his Alpha’s mouth, staining his lips like fine wine. He is the picture of controlled power under him, and John whines when fingers suddenly grip into his waist, digging so deep they’ll leave bruises.

“Yes,” he groans, hands around Rook’s wrists to keep them in place. “Hurt me. Mark me. Make them know I’m yours.”

Clumsy hands strip the shirt from his body, John tossing it aside with his vest, and go to work on the Deputy’s. The uniform makes it easy, buttons coming free like God is guiding their course, and John sinks his hands deep into the hair spread across his Alpha’s chest, scratching like a cat with a post. He arches his back, presses down into another roll of the hips, and is suddenly still too constricted, too contained by the fabric of his clothing.

“C-clothes,” he stutters out, throwing himself off his Alpha to strip, kicking his boots and pants aside.

He stops with thumbs tucked into the waistband of his underwear, watching his Alpha as he presses up onto one elbow. He is glorious, disheveled from John’s hands, thick under his zipper. The size of the bulge makes John’s mouth water, makes him want to drop to his knees and worship his Alpha’s cock.

If Rook wanted, John would let him knot his mouth. Stuff his cock down his throat and trap it there with the blessings of an Alpha, fill his belly with come like communion wine. 

He doesn’t ask for it, though. Just watches John with heavy lidded eyes as he strips the last bit of clothing away. There’s a moment of nerves, John’s arm crossing over his belly, fear cooling the heat in his veins.

What if his Alpha doesn’t like his body? What if the sins he’s marked into his flesh, paid for in blood and pressed into skin as a warning, disgust him? What if they remind him John has had others, Alphas not nearly as deserving or God-sent laying eyes on what he is now privy to?

“Come here, little Omega.” Rook croons, beckoning him with a hand. “Come back where you were. Where you belong.”

His voice is deeper, gravel-rough, and John moans at the fresh spill of slick from the words alone. His Alpha is in _rut_. He triggered a rut in his intended mate with his words and his body. 

“ _Yes_ ,” he sobs, scrambling, limbs refusing to cooperate until his blessed Alpha grips his hips to place him back atop his hips. “Yes, Alpha. Command me. Make me well and whole in your hands, with your body.”

There’s a moment when John bares his teeth, irritation and anger flowing freely alongside lust when Rook’s hands push at his hips, until he realizes he’s trying to get at his belt buckle under John’s weight. He helps, rising up, whimpering at the sight of wetness gleaming on Rook’s pants as they undo his belt and shove his clothes down his thighs.

He has marked his Alpha already, drenched him in his slick. And he will do more.

John wraps trembling fingers around his Alpha’s cock the second it’s exposed, keeping the chill away, the warmth of his hand nothing compared to the blood hot flesh in his grip. He is big, and he will split John open, and John _wants_ it, wants it like he wants salvation in the end times. 

Rook makes a protesting noise low in his throat when John rises up, presses the thick tip to where he’s soft and wet, but it’s drowned out by John’s high pitched cry. Tears gather at the corner of his eyes as he forces himself down the length, thighs tense and trembling, fingers scratching thin lines of blood on his Alpha’s chest. 

It’s too much, too fast. His Rook is too big, even as slick and wet as he was it _hurts_ and John’s eyes peel wide as he stares down at him. 

It’s not supposed to hurt. Joseph said that finding the other half of your soul was like being welcomed through the gates of Heaven. Fitting and as easy as breathing. It shouldn’t _hurt_ but it does and this isn’t how it’s supposed to be and--

“Why does it hurt?” He snaps, hands shifting to his Alpha’s throat, locking there in a grip as tight as the one his body has on Rook’s cock. “It’s not supposed to _hurt_. We are _made_ for each other, created to fit together!”

A thought crosses his mind and John squeezes tighter, cock pulsing at the red flush that’s working it’s way across his Alpha’s face as he struggles to breathe. 

“You’re a _snake_ in our garden! You’re not my Alpha, you are an imposter sent to tempt me and I--you tricked me! You were the apple meant to _lure_ me from this paradise, and I bit, I bit like the fucking child you knew I was!”

“John,” Rook gasps, nails scratching as his wrists as he struggles under him. “You’re not--not in heat. We can’t--it hurts when you take it. You’re not supposed to--”

“Of course.” John lets go with a gasp, leaning over and ignoring the way it shifts his Alpha’s cock inside him in lieu of rubbing their cheeks together. “Of course, Alpha. God meant for his Omegas to be taken in heat. I was greedy and I took what was not mine to take. I am so, _so_ sorry.”

He can’t believe he did something so foolish. Daring to hurt his Alpha when it was his own foolishness and pride that made him un-prepared. John feels guilt sink deep in his stomach, wrapping around the lust there like a coiled snake, fangs bared and aimed for his heart.

But sins can always be absolved. And his Alpha is so good, so forgiving. He will allow John to atone for his mistakes. 

He grabs for Rook’s hands, holds them to his own throat, and swallows against the pressure when they obediently wrap around the flesh. His Alpha holds his life in his hands, so gentle still, and John’s body falls into an age old motion. Slick coats his Alpha’s cock as he rises and falls, making every pass easier until Rook’s cock is sinking home like it is made to.

He made a space for himself inside John. Just as intended.

“Punish me,” John gasps, cock leaking onto his Alpha’s stomach, so close already. “Offer me atonement with your body. Command me to be well, to be yours. Take what has always been yours.”

Rook’s hands tighten around his throat, stars at the edges of his vision as John gasps and moves more frantically. He can feel the thick ridge of a knot forming and cries out, uncaring that the air will be difficult to get back through Rook’s grip. He fits so well in the welcoming cradle of Rook’s hips, wet and hot for him, a good enough hole that he’s going to get knotted.

It is all he has ever wanted to be. Not a good man, but a good _Omega_.

He comes the moment he slams himself down on Rook’s knot, locking it inside him with the clench of his hole. His hands slip in his own come, spread across his Alpha’s stomach, and John blinks away the black edging into his vision as Rook’s hands keep a firm grip on his throat.

“Yes,” he croaks out, shuddering and shaking atop his mate, belly filling with the seed that will produce pups of their own. “Yes, yes, _yes_.”

He collapses, body shutting down with the orgasm and the lack of oxygen, slumping onto his Alpha’s chest. The last thing he sees before the world fades to a pleasant black is his Alpha reaching down towards where they’re connected.

Probably inspecting the tie, seeing if John kept all the seed inside where it belongs. He hopes he did a good job. 

He doesn’t want to disappoint his Alpha.

.O.

“--hn. John!”

He wakes dazed, torn from a dream of his Alpha’s teeth sinking deep into his shoulder, by Jacob’s shouts. The world spins around him as Jacob yanks him upright, body aching, eyes refusing to focus. 

The aftermath of a mating meant to be. 

“Where--” John looks around, frowning when the image of his Alpha doesn’t coalesce in front of him.

Jacob is kneeling beside the bed, one hand on his shoulder to steady him. Joseph and Faith are by the door, Faith chewing nervously on a nail as Joseph looks at him with...pity?

Where is his Alpha? His scent is still here, still thick on his skin. He cannot have gone far.

“Where is Rook?” he asks, gripping Jacob’s jacket in his fist, the patch on the sleeve biting into his palm. “Where is my Alpha?”

“He called for help and ran,” Jacob snarls. “You didn’t take his fucking radio?”

“No, I--” John shakes his head, heart and mind racing. “He wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. He’s _mine_. Why would he ever try to run from me?”

“Even the most faithful can be lead astray by others,” Joseph murmurs quietly, rounding the bed to sit beside him, gentle fingers against his throat.

It hurts to swallow, his Alpha likely having left a myriad of bruises on his flesh. He deserved it. Deserves the marks. Wants to tattoo them into his flesh so he can show the world how his Alpha forgave him his impudence for ever doubting their bond. 

“He’s _mine_ , Joseph.” John catches his hand, holds it tight. “They can’t take him from me. I won’t let them take him away.”

“No,” Joseph whispers, a tender hand on the back of his neck tipping their foreheads together. “We will bring him back to you. We will kill any who dare to come between the bonds God has created.”

Jacob climbs to his feet as John starts to sob, thanks spilling from his mouth as he clings to his older brother’s shoulders. He feels foolish for ever having been worried in the first place. Joseph would plot a path to bring his Alpha back. He will _always_ create a path.

“I’ll start a hunt.” Jacob grins down like the prospect excites him. “You will have your Alpha back, John. And no one will take him away again.”

“We can start a family,” John breathes, a hand to his stomach that Joseph covers with one of his own. 

He wasn’t in heat, but it’s coming soon. He can feel it in his bones, a call to his Alpha to come back, to breed him full. Omegas can only get pregnant in heat, and he will ensure his Alpha is back in time for his to start. No one will stand in the way of them creating a family to follow Joseph’s path.

Joseph’s smile is soft and gentle as his thumb rubs across John’s knuckles, like he’s thinking of the future that will lay beneath their palms. Children to carry forth the message, to carry forth the teachings their uncles will provide unto them.

“Just as God intended. Let’s get you dressed, John. We have a family to build.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me over at [MoMoMomma](https://momomomma2.tumblr.com) if you wanna chat!


End file.
